


Kitten

by thawrecka



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-09-01
Updated: 2001-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 04:32:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thawrecka/pseuds/thawrecka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was glorious and you wanted her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kitten

She shimmered, all soft and smooth. Her eyes were portals, opening slowly. Her voice was like the sirens, lulling you to your death, and when she called you baby it sounded like a caress. The air hummed around her honey presence. She was blindingly scrumptious luminescence, magnificent incandescence and her skin was soft as her hand trailed down the side of your face.

She spoke to you like a girl friend, like someone she'd share her deepest secrets with. She called you sweetie, sighed and fussed, asked if you wanted pizza. She pretended like you were having a sleep over, not a traumatising experience. You took it all in with your shiny key eyes, this glorious, maleficent hell-god.

She sauntered over, picking that tissue out of the box with her graceful fingers, rubbed with it, licked it with her seeming-human tongue, then with her seeming-human saliva wiped that oil from your forehead. Tossed the tissue aside, then she stepped back and sighed so elegantly. "You okay?" she questioned like she cared, smiled. Sugar coated words slipped from between her gleaming red lips that begged to be taken in your mouth, sucked, tasted. And to your reply she purred, "Sweetie ... ohh..."

Grabbing a chair, she perched herself high above you, her strawberry-blonde curls cascading over her face, creating shadows that obscured your view of it. She spoke of home, the place you belonged and gently patted your knee, asked if you wanted a pillow.

The light bathed only parts of her face, highlighting those gorgeous cheekbones, touching those pouting lips that surrounded perfect white teeth. She tried to say you were the same, that the falsity of humanity was a costume you shared. She played with your hand like a rag-doll. You knew the pretty exterior hid a festering cacophony of little black spiders and their sticky webs, that if you put your fingers all the way inside her all you'd feel was loose dirt.

Then somehow you hurt her feelings. She stood, her long and perfectly shaped legs not in their usual frilly dress and kitten heels, her creamy, cool ankles hidden from your view. She walked away from you, frowning, wondering what was wrong with her feelings (usually non-existent).

She laughed, a feminine echoing noise that rang in the air long after she spoke it. As she began the accusations she got a sexy, little stutter that caught in her exquisite mouth. Her anger materialised, her resplendently polished fingers pointing and ordering.

Then inside came all the scabby, nasty, stupid, spineless creatures and broke her charm.


End file.
